


Pink Salut

by Phritzie



Category: Runescape (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Gift Art, Irresponsible Use of Kylie Minogue, Magical Realism: Greek Gods Edition, Multi, NSFW Art, POV Second Person, This Isn't Part of Any Series I'm Just A Thot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 19:14:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16918761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phritzie/pseuds/Phritzie
Summary: You've seen topless parties before. The... inversion presents itself as a freewheeling alternative. At once more obscene, and less assumptive, than the weak abstractions of milquetoast college ragers.You don't mind that.It's been a minute since you were in college.





	Pink Salut

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Domimagetrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domimagetrix/gifts).



_The main floor is dark._

_There's a tasteful amount of white strobe to break up the dim, striking in pulses across a sea of neon pink shirts. The color is utterly lost in translation, but you can appreciate the amount of effort it must've taken to get such a large group to coordinate like this._

_Strangely enough, no one asks you what you're drinking. Maybe they know better._

_You smell the juice immediately. It must be flowing from every flat plane in the house. Sour and electric. On replay from the breath of each mouth that turns your way to leer or blink obliviously, but these faces interest you little. They don't belong to the one who so generously extended the invitation that brought you to this epicurean realm._

_You trail the fruity aroma to it’s source. He awaits you in the nest loft, and like any good king, he has a throne. Subjects._

_And a crown._

_It's leopard print, and as 'visions of dudes who wear sun protection indoors' go, the gold sequins actually elevate the look from _just_ trashy to an x-factor that's positively unholy. It bumps once against the forehead of subject number one, who moans voicelessly into their kiss before pulling back... only to swoop in on his exposed neck. You don't have a chance to anticipate the fine sight of him getting his throat artfully sucked on. Their path veers, and they bite down on the glittering, rhinestone whistle hanging between his collarbones._

_**God only knows what the fuck that thing is for** , you think, leaving the threshold of the hall._

_It's quieter upstairs and the floorboards give you away. He turns from his admiration of their thieving lips. They soon follow suit, a soft hold on the accessory broadening to smile at you. Their hand moves around the high-backed egg cushion supporting them to wrap around one of his calves. The move shifts your attention swiftly downward, over his too-small t-shirt. Your brain chooses to blur passed the graphic font in an act that might be described as perverted haste._

_Subject number two is, in a pinch of words, sex breathing. Vague static outstrips the track pounding up from the floor - **you'll never get to heaven if you're scared of getting high** \- as you take in the way their hair pools, nodding fluidly in his lap._

_Sudden movement from your left is just startling enough to tear your eyes away from their worship. All bulk and smooth skin, someone else offers themselves for a party favor._

_He swirls the liquid in his wine glass thoughtfully, appearing to consider a sentence or several, and presses the rim of the glass into potential subject number three's upraised tongue instead. Negligible pearls of the drink escape in dark trickles._

_By this time you aren't sure whether you have long missed a cue to run, or to make as present company and throw yourself at his feet._

_His royal purple, silicone-grape sandaled feet._

_**Is there a miniature wine bottle between one of his clawed toes?** _

_His ankle shifts to press down on the shoulder of – and there is. Christ._

_But the initial choice ends up being less than entirely yours to make._

_His free hand goes to the cascade of curls hiding subject number two's face. The fondness in the gesture strikes you as purposeful but not performative. They gentle their grip on his leg._

_Voice stiff from either misuse or all the vino, Sliske quirks a friendly eyeridge your way. Looks you all the way up and all the way down._

_" **I do hope you aren't wearing anything underneath that coat**."_

_Unfortunately... you are._

_But as you shrug your shoulders to rid yourself of the offending outerwear and it lands amidst your ankles, from the look on his face, it's probably just occurred to him that pink shirts aren't hard to take off._

 

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for being you, and for participating in this little fic experiment. I think it's objectives were achieved. Also, get well soon!
> 
> The song lyrics are from "Red Blooded Woman," and the outfit Sliske wore is from [this Tumblr post.](http://deadpanwalking.tumblr.com/post/174344630501/what-would-dionysus-wear-if-he-was-in-the-modern)


End file.
